Oh Goody Goody! Chili For Breakfast!

Goody Goody Diner
5900 Natural Bridge Ave.
St. Louis, MO


Ahh, breakfast.

Nothing awakens the senses like that first early morning meal of the day.

The rising sun streaming through the kitchen blinds.

The sound of birds chirping hello to a new day through the open window.

The scent of fresh ground coffee brewing.

The sight of lingerie-clad Scarlett Johansson delivering a cast iron skillet full of biscuits and sausage to my bedside.

A gigantic overflowing omelet of potatoes, onions, green and red peppers smothered in a half gallon of chili and melted cheese.

What?

Did that chili thing just disrupt your idyllic dream breakfast scene?

If so, you are reading the wrong blog.

Wake up!

Nothing says “good morning” in the city of St. Louis like a flowing river of bean and meat infused chili ladled on top of an over-stuffed omelet.

In most parts of this city, such a hearty early morning delicacy is called “a slinger.”

Here at the venerable Goody, Goody Diner, they call it “The Wilbur”.

But no matter what you call it, no trip to St. Louis is complete without devouring at least one chili smothered omelet.

As if this over-sized plate full of protein, carbs and chili wasn’t enough, my Wilbur came with the largest biscuit and bowl of grits you’ll ever see.

Huge, fluffy and soft as a baby’s bottom, this was steamy biscuit perfection.

The giant bowl of grits was first class all the way too. None of that runny crap you get at the chain restaurants. This was thick, rib-sticking hominy that came up in big clumps with every forkful.

Following my “too much is never enough” Suit757 philosophy, I made the quick determination that all this still wasn’t enough food for me.

So I ordered three pork sausage patties on the side. You can never have too much meat, right?

It was a good choice. Well seasoned and soft and crumbly, this was four star home-made sausage – and a perfect compliment to my chili-ladened mound of eggs, cheese, peppers, onions and potatoes.

You can tell right away the Goody, Goody Diner knows what they are doing. First of all, they’ve been around since 1948.

And the place was packed – at the distinctly unpeak hour of 10:45am on a Wednesday.

Friendly service by waitresses who seem to know every customer in the place – except for me that is – make even an out-of-town suit feel welcome. Even if I was the only white guy in the place.

A stool at the lunch counter was the perfect perch to watch all that goodness stream out of the kitchen – and eavesdrop on local gossip. Like whose daughter is working at the local strip joint and what kind of season the Cardinals are going to have this year.

Always in a hurry, I scarfed down a week’s worth of calories in 20 minutes and made my mad dash for the airport.

Such is life on the road. No chirping birds or scantily clad blond bombshells delivering breakfast in bed for me.

But sometimes a giant mound of chili, cheese and eggs at the counter of a Mid-Western culinary landmark will do just fine.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!

Breakfast of the Gods in Breaux Bridge

Café des Amis

140 E. Bridge St.
Breaux Bridge, LA
Visited August 22, 2010

Beer selection: Good variety.

Food: Really, really good Cajun dishes for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

The Best Breakfast in the History of the Planet!

Yeah. Go there now.

Hop a plane to Lafayette, Louisiana and take a cab to Café des Amis in nearby Breaux Bridge.

What are you doing still sitting there reading this?

I said go. Now!

Yeah, this place is THAT good.

Café des Amis serves up atmosphere and out-of-this world Creole cuisine in an old historic 19th Century downtown building in the heart of Cajun Country. They even converted an old Otis elevator from the building’s hey-day as a casket manufacturing plant into a hostess stand.

When I think of classic Louisiana Creole food, I think deliciousness and flavor.

Café des Amis takes what are already once-in-a-life-time delicacies and elevates them to the sublime.

My appetizer of Oreille de Couchon was a perfect example.

Everyone knows about New Orleans' famous Café du Monde beignets.

Once you’ve had one, you never forget the delicate texture and the warm sweetness of a fresh from the fryer beignet.

So what can a place like Café des Amis do to improve on such a perfect concept as warm fried dough covered in powdered sugar?

How about roll it up into the shape of a pig’s ear and stuff the darn thing with Cajun boudin!

Oh, yeah!

Boudin is Cajun sausage mixed with spices and rice.

It’s Cajun snack food. Breakfast, lunch or dinner.

You won’t find boudin on restaurant menus. But you will find it in every butcher shop, meat market, convenience store and truck stop from Beaumont to Baton Rogue.

Cajuns pop in, grab a link fresh from the steamer for about a buck, and enjoy the best mobile meat snack since the invention of the Slim Jim. (Ok, you’re right. The lowly Slim Jim doesn’t have anything on this delicacy).

So the concept of taking a powdered sugar, delicate ball of dough and stuffing it up with spicy Cajun sausage is beyond absurd.

And one of the top food items I have ever placed in mouth!

So while Café des Amis’ “pig’s ear” won my Greatest Food Item Ever Championship, the title was short-lived.

Try 15 minutes.

Because that is how long it took for the waitress to bring out my main dish, “Don’t Mess With My Tas-so Omelet”.

Picture this: melted Swiss cheese, spicy Cajun Tasso ham and onions sautéed in Cajun spices, all stuffed into a fluffy omelet.

Yeah, we have a new champion of the world.

The Single Greatest Breakfast of My Life was accompanied by a fresh-from-the-oven buttermilk biscuit and grits.

But not just any grits. No. Of course not.

No ordinary grits here.

How about cheesy grits studded with zesty Cajun Andouille sausage?

It was a breakfast I hoped would never end.

So I ordered desert.

Yeah, desert for breakfast. Why not?

While I’m always partial to chocolate and the chocolate pecan pie was mighty tempting, I went with a more indigenous selection, Gateau Sirop, which my excellent waitress helpfully translated for me: Syrup Cake.

As you drive across the Southwest Louisiana plains, you see one crop stretching from horizon to horizon – sugar cane. The stuff that once was used to sweeten everything from RC Cola to the Moon Pie.

Of course thanks to the infinite wisdom of the prostitutes who run our federal government, virtually nothing in America is sweetened with natural good ‘ol sugar cane any more. Not RC Cola. Not Moon Pies. Nothing.

Thanks to tariffs on imported sugar cane and taxpayer subsidies for corn, it is vastly cheaper to mass produce soft drinks, cereal, ice cream, everything, with corn syrup.

Never mind that the stuff is probably killing us. And we’re paying for the privilege through taxes and higher food costs.

But out here in this corner of fly-over country, sugar cane syrup isn’t just available, it’s a tradition. A tradition honored in no greater form than Syrup Cake, a sugar cane sweetened spice cake topped with pecans and drizzled with more pure sugar cane syrup.

Oh yeah, and Café des Amis serves it warm with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream.

It was a perfect way to cap off one of the greatest culinary experiences of my life.

So I’m going on record right now. If Obama ever sends me off to a FEMA camp, this is what I want for my last meal. I’ll happily spend the rest of my life pushing boulders up hill as long as I have one final memory of this little spot in the heart of Cajun Country.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!

Southern Tradition Survives In Trashville

Elliston Place Soda Shop
2111 Elliston Place
Nashville, TN
Visited August 18, 2010

Beer selection: None.

Food: Delicious Southern cooking.

Nashville gets a bad rap. And, frankly, it’s entirely deserved.

The city is built around taking what is supposed to be artistic expression and stripping it down to a commercial pre-packaged product for the masses.

Here’s what happens when you build your entire industry around catering to the lowest common denominator of fickle pop culture whims: tradition, history and good taste get tossed aside like conservative principles the day after a Republican gets elected.

That’s why I always look forward to a trip to Elliston Place Soda Shop whenever I’m in Nashville. The place is like an unchanging rock among a churning sea of bad taste.

Hannah Montana doesn’t hang out here. At least, I hope not.

No, Elliston Place Soda Shop hasn’t changed a bit since the day it opened 60 years ago.

As you flip through the little juke boxes at each booth you still see the same songs by George Jones, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Sr. and Hank Williams Jr.

And the homemade biscuits are Southern-delicious every time.

Today, I got the country ham, scrambled eggs and grits to accompany my requisite buttermilk biscuits.

The ham was great -- not salty in the least bit -- an interesting variation on country hams from further east of these parts.

Since my first day waiting tables at a Southern breakfast restaurant 20 years ago, I’ve marveled at how well the tastes and textures of eggs, ham and biscuit compliment each other. It’s a match made in heaven. There’s no better way to start your day.

But it is the grits that are the star at Elliston Place.

I’ve developed a theory about grits over the last 20 years I’ve been eating them that Elliston Place has required me to alter. (I can change my opinions about some things, on occasion.)

Since grits aren’t normally known to pack a major flavor wallop (unless you get those fancy grits with cheese or ham or gravy in there like they serve at four star Southern restaurants at dinner time), I used to be believe that it is all about the texture when grading grits.

You don’t want your grits too clumpy. And you don’t want them too runny.

You want them moist, but still fork edible.

Elliston Place achieves not just grits perfection on the texture scale. They score a 10 on taste too.

If anyone tries to tell you grits don’t have any taste, you need to immediately bring them to Nashville.

These grits, while completely ungilded, have a delicious hominy taste. No grits-virgin Yankee could ever taste these and ask that typical Yankee question, “So, what are grits, anyway?”

You know right away when you taste that first fork-full of Elliston Place’s grits. You can’t help but notice that deep, earthy corn meal flavor, which gets even better with a small dab of butter and a quick shake of salt and pepper.

Elliston Place Soda Shop is also a great place for lunch.

Come sit at the lunch counter and order up your favorite meat-and-three along with a chocolate milk shake or malt, made the old fashioned way – just like they’ve been doing here for six decades.

Yep. You can count on Elliston Place every time. Every meal.

So no matter what kind of crappy pabulum the suits around the corner on Music Row are churning out this week, you always know there is one place in Nashville that won’t let you down or leave Southern tradition behind.

Just don’t forget to throw a dime in the juke box for George Jones for me.

Rating: Bought the Shirt!